


A Christmas for Clay

by missblueeyes63



Category: SEAL Team (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood, Christmas, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 11:24:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21898534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missblueeyes63/pseuds/missblueeyes63
Summary: Bravo Team is granted five days off at Christmas with a guarantee of not being spun-up. Everyone has plans ... except for Clay.
Comments: 51
Kudos: 217





	1. Christmas Eve Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Well, my muse is tired of editing my most recent novel, the first one in my new Strike Force Zulu series, so I'm letting her play a bit before reviewing the last few chapters of Zulu Six.
> 
> Truthfully, I have no idea where my muse will take this story or how many chapters ... I'm along for the ride too ... but knowing me, there's bound to be a bit of whump involved. Hope you enjoy.

_ **Lynnhaven Mall – Center Court** _

Clay’s gaze roamed around him, not alert for threats, no his eyes were wide with wonder. Much like Jameelah’s and RJ’s as they took in all the glittery and colorful Christmas decorations while waiting to visit with Santa Claus. He would never reveal to anyone that as a kid, his Christmases were devoid of magic. He supposed before his father sent him to live with his grandparents, he must’ve experienced something like this, but he couldn’t recall.

His childhood memories didn’t match the typical American kid. They couldn’t since he primarily grew up in a missionary camp in Liberia. Though his grandma and grandpa loved him, they put all their resources into practical matters such as food, shelter, and clean water. So nothing was left for frivolities such as Christmas decorations. So this excess overwhelmed and truthfully delighted him.

A tug on his hand brought his eyes down to RJ, and he grinned. “Excited to sit on Santa’s lap?”

RJ nodded with bright, eager brown eyes. “I’m gonna ask for a pirate ship.”

Clay chuckled. Ever since he showed up at Ray’s place to take Jameelah trick or treating wearing a pirate costume, RJ developed a fascination with pirates. “Okay.”

“Uncle Clay?”

Turning to Jameelah, Clay noted the bit of hesitation in her voice. “What?”

Chewing her bottom lip, Jameelah gazed up at her hero. He saved her from being hit by a car and got hurt doing so. “What was Christmas like when you were a kid?”

“Why do you ask?” Clay regretted his response when her eyes dropped to her shoes.

Her voice soft, knowing it was bad manners to pry, Jameelah said, “Well, ‘cause you never went trick or treating, and I wondered if you had Christmas.”

Clay crouched to come to eye level with Ray’s daughter. “A bit different than this.”

“How?” RJ chimed in.

Searching for a way to tell the truth without revealing the starkness of his childhood, Clay smiled. “Well, one Christmas, I got to string a popcorn garland.” He chuckled. “It wasn’t very long, ‘cause I keep eating the popcorn.”

“I like popcorn too,” RJ declared.

“Did you have a tree?” Jameelah pursed her lips, picking up what her uncle didn’t share.

“And lots of presents?” RJ added.

Clay blinked and was saved from answering as the elf waved them forward. “Your turn.” He stood and released RJ’s hand as the kids scampered over to the jolly fat man. He indicated to the photo assistant which package Naima wanted. As the children posed, and then whispered their heart’s desires to Santa, Clay grinned. Experiencing the wonder of the season through his brother’s children warmed his heart.

When they finished, and Clay received the packet of photos, he checked his watch and noted he needed to keep them busy for at least another hour. “How about we grab some hot chocolate and cookies?” RJ’s squeal of delight gave Clay his answer, and he gave the pictures to Jameelah to hold as he gripped both their hands and headed for the food court.

Fifteen minutes later, sitting at a small table, Clay chuckled again at the whipped cream and cookie crumbs surrounding RJ’s mouth. He thought Jameelah would’ve forgotten her question by now, but as she finished her snickerdoodle, she asked, “So, did you have a Christmas tree?”

“Yes.” Clay’s answer was the truth, but not the whole truth. He taped six pieces of paper together and drew a tree every year, and his grandmother allowed him to hang it on the wall in his room.

“And presents?” RJ spilled his cocoa as he nearly knocked over his cup.

Clay caught the cup before it ended up in his lap. Ray wouldn’t be happy with him if he ended up injured in front of his kids again … though the burns would’ve been slight since the cocoa cooled a bit. Setting the drink in front of RJ, Clay answered. “I received presents too.”

“Like pirate ships?” RJ’s eyes sparkled.

“No. But they were nice gifts.” Clay’s mind conjured up his usual Christmas gifts, but he wouldn’t share them with RJ. Grandma always made him a new set of clothes and treated him with popcorn. Grandpa gifted him his time, letting him go with him to deliver the food baskets to those in desperate need. His father, well, Clay never expected anything from Ash and was never disappointed when nothing arrived.

* * *

_ **Ray’s Home** _

With Christmas carols playing in the background, Jameelah giggled as her dad accidentally dumped a whole heap of red sprinkles on the cookie he was decorating. “Sorry, Dad, I forgot RJ loosened the top.”

Grinning, Ray shrugged. “More the merrier, I say.” He loved spending time with his family, just the four of them enjoying the season and doing something simple and innocent like baking cookies. This was a far cry from what he saw in his daily life with his brothers.

Though Ray cared about all five brothers, and this might be considered a bit selfish, but taking a break from Bravo to be with only his wife and children was a rare gift, and Ray cherished every moment. Especially since Blackburn managed to get the entire team a full five days off from the twenty-third to the twenty-seventh.

Niama sauntered in, with a now cleaned up RJ … his helping to mix the batter for the next batch went disastrously wrong, and more batter ended up on her son and the floor than in the bowl. Spying Ray’s attempt at decorating the tree cookie, she chuckled. “Well, that is certainly more.”

Having bided her time all afternoon, ever since Clay took them to the mall, Jameelah finally got up the nerve to ask, “Mom, Dad, can Clay come over on Christmas Day?”

“Honey, I’m sure he has plans,” Naima said as she started a new batch.

Jameelah ignored her mom’s response and pinned her father with her puppy dog eyes, which usually got her what she wanted. “Daddy, can he please come? You say more the merrier, right?”

A softy at heart, when it came to his daughter, Ray caved. “I’ll call and ask him, but don’t be surprised if he can’t.” Jameelah graced him with a brilliant smile, and including Clay didn’t seem such a big deal if it made his girl beam like sunshine.

* * *

_ **Clay’s Apartment** _

With the trip to the mall still swirling in his head, Clay sat on his couch in his cheerless apartment. He never bothered with decorations, didn’t have them growing up, so why bother now. Just something to put up and take down. And killing a living tree just so it could stand in the corner of his room for a few days didn’t seem right either. He supposed he could buy a fake one … but again, why bother when everywhere he went in town had decorations, he could enjoy.

The last word stopped Clay’s thoughts dead in their tracks. Enjoy … enjoyment … to feel joy. His life didn’t have much joy lately … or ever really. He got the shaft early on, and no one ever stayed in his life for long. His grandparents were the longest … but they like so many died or ditched him.

His self-absorbed dad left him early on. Mom fought her demons but ultimately died from them after shipping him off. Grandpa and Grandma lost their lives in civil conflict. Both Brian and Adam died doing what they loved. Stella dumped him … twice. He had been a fool to give it a second shot with her. She still couldn’t handle his job.

The only family he had now was his team … and they were all busy. They had five days off with a guarantee they wouldn’t be spun up unless the world was coming to an end, so everyone made plans. 

Ray made it clear he intended to spend every waking moment with Naima, Jameelah, and RJ and wouldn’t give them one thought. Jason decided to spend Christmas at his mother’s home in Philadelphia with his kids. Sonny booked a flight to Texas and didn’t bother to ask if he wanted to go with him. But that didn’t surprise Clay, Sonny had been a bit distant ever since the Texan started dating the _mystery_ _woman_. Trent took the opportunity to fly home too, wanting to introduce Dawn to his parents, and talked about looking up old pals he hadn’t seen in years. And to round things out, Brock drove to Florida with Cerb to meet his girlfriend's family.

Clay should’ve made plans like all the rest. Perhaps skiing in Canada or laying on a beach somewhere in the Carribean. But when Ray asked if he would watch his kids on the morning of the twenty-fourth so he and Naima could drive all the way to Norfolk to get the last mega pirate ship … RJ’s heart's desire, Clay couldn’t say no. So now, he was home all alone after dropping the kid’s off three hours ago.

Pushing himself up, figuring he needed to stop his pity party before it snowballed, Clay strode to his kitchen to find something to eat. He opened the fridge and recalled he never made it to the store after the last spin up. He stared at a single bottle of beer, two energy drinks, a bag of decaying salad, and a small chunk of cheese that had dried out on the edges. Opening the freezer yielded only his five bags of frozen corn he used as ice packs, a can of orange juice concentrate he couldn’t remember buying, and a piece of freezer-burned pork chop he should’ve thrown out a month ago.

Going to his cabinets, he found some spices, an old bag of ramen noodles, and a can of cream of celery soup. _What the hell? When did I buy celery soup? Who eats celery soup anyway? Oh right, Stella made some casserole with it ages ago._ He grabbed the chicken ramen, resigned to having a Christmas Eve dinner reminiscent of the last one he spent with his mom. She was too drugged out to give a damn about fixing him dinner.

He was too young to cook, even boil water back then, so Clay prepared the ramen as he had when he was five. He smashed the packaging on the counter, breaking the noodles into little pieces, poured it into a bowl, and sprinkled the flavoring over the top. After grabbing a spoon, he returned to the couch and plopped down.

Turning on the TV, he scrolled through channels, not finding anything he wanted to watch until he landed on the tail end of the old movie Home Alone. He munched on the dry noodles and thought it would’ve been nice to be the kid in the story because he was ingenious in foiling the robbery, and his family realized they forgot him, and the parents did everything in their power to get back to him as soon as possible.

When the movie ended, he switched off the TV and set his half-eaten bowl of ramen on the table. Restless, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He thought about going to the gym on base, but other teams might see him and word might get back to his teammates that Clay didn’t have anywhere else to be on Christmas Eve … and that would suck. He didn’t want them feeling sorry for him. Nope, the gym was out.

Clay stood and wandered back and forth in his small place until his eyes lit on the box of crayons on his desk. RJ must’ve left them when he was packing up his backpack before Clay took them home. Clay grinned as he picked up the crayons and searched for a blank sheet of paper. He settled for the backside of the packing slip from the boots he bought himself for Christmas.

He sat on his stool at the kitchen island, selected the green crayon, and began to draw a tree. Halfway done, and recalling the simple pleasures he experienced with his grandparents … understanding material things didn’t mean squat … only people did, he was jarred from his latest recollection when his phone buzzed.

Surprised, and then worried something might’ve happened when he spied Ray’s name, Clay answered, “Hey, Ray. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, why would you ask that?”

“Well, you’re spending time with your family. And I didn’t expect you to call.” Clay continued coloring a red ball on his tree after he put Ray on speaker.

“Oh. Sorry for interrupting whatever you’re doing, brother.”

“Not interrupting. What you need?” Clay switched to a yellow crayon and drew a star on the top of his tree.

“Well, I know I imposed on your time already by babysitting my kids. And well, I wouldn’t want you to change your plans, but Jameelah asked if you would come over tomorrow. It doesn’t have to be for long … or not at all, if you would rather not. I didn’t make any promises to her other than I would call you.”

Clay struggled to discern whether Ray actually wanted him to come over, or was only placating his daughter by calling. “I guess I could stop by for a few minutes … for Jameelah. What time would be good?”

“Anytime that works for you. We’re not going anywhere.”

Clay racked his brain to remember if Ray said anything about when they ate Christmas dinner, not wanting to ruin their family time. When nothing came to mind, he selected a time, which would be after brunch and before lunch or an early dinner. “How about elevenish?”

“Sounds good. Jameelah will be happy. Thanks.”

“No problem. See you tomorrow.” Clay hung up and smiled, pleased he would make Jameelah happy. And he only planned to stay about half-hour, so Ray could have his much-anticipated family time.

Clay continued to decorate his tree, and when he finished, he went into his bedroom and taped it on the wall. It was then he realized he didn’t want to go empty-handed to Ray’s, and he hoped the corner store might still be open. He would grab a bottle of wine for the adults and popcorn for the kids.


	2. Holiday Spirit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter ... sorry, tons of stuff going on with the holidays, but wanted to post what I had finished.

** _Corner Store_ **

Clay stomped the slush off his new boots on the rubber mat outside the entrance to the store as he gripped the door handle and pulled it open for a woman and small child exiting. He grinned and nodded as she smiled and thanked him as the little boy said, “Merry Christmas.” He moved inside, happy to be out of the frigid weather, and started towards the alcohol section.

“We close in five minutes,” Victor called out to the customer. He wished he could’ve gone home earlier, but being the newest employee, he got stuck with closing up on Christmas Eve.

Hearing the clerk, Clay quickly selected a red wine he thought Naima might like. Since he was out and about, Clay decided to pick up a few things, so his cupboards weren’t so bare. Not wanting to make the employee wait on him, Clay hurried to collect the items. He snagged several boxes of microwave popcorn when the idea of making popcorn garlands with Ray’s kids popped into his mind and strode for the register.

“Man, you’re fast. Appreciate it. My girlfriend is waiting for me to get home and put the tricycle together for our daughter’s Santa gift,” Victor said as he began to ring up the groceries.

Clay grinned. “Hope she enjoys her gift.”

Victor chuckled. “Hope I finish putting it together in time. I’m not good at building things.” He bagged up the groceries, and after his last customer picked up his purchases, he followed him to the door and wished him, “Happy Holidays.”

“Merry Christmas,” Clay responded right before the clerk closed and locked the store’s door. In no hurry now, he strolled to his car, only one of three in the parking lot.

As he put the bags in the passenger seat, Clay noticed the woman he saw coming out of the store when he went in. She sat in her car, crying. Something, a gut feeling maybe, made him close his door and move towards her. So distraught, she apparently didn’t notice him because she jumped when he lightly rapped on the window.

Startled, Melissa gaped at the man, glad she locked her door.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” Clay asked through the glass.

“Yes,” Melissa lied, brushing away her tears.

“Mommy, I’m cold,” four-year-old Marty whined in the backseat.

Melissa turned to her son. Everything was going wrong, and she didn’t know what to do. “I’ll give you my jacket in a moment, honey.”

Clay knocked again. “You sure you’re okay?”

Turning back to the handsome man, her eyes raked over him with suspicion. She didn’t trust strangers, men especially, ever since she had been accosted and almost raped last year when her husband was on deployment. And although everything in her shivering body told her not to roll down her window, she had no other options. She gripped the hand-crank and lowered it an inch. “My car won’t start.”

“Does it turn over at all?”

“No. I think the battery died. My husband said he would replace it, but he got spun …” she caught herself before using words she shouldn’t and substituted, “… he got called away for work before he could.”

Clay didn’t miss her aborted use of spun up. So her husband must be a SEAL, not uncommon in this neck of the woods. “I have jumper cables in my trunk. I can give that a try if you’d like?”

Relaxing a bit, Melissa smiled and nodded. “Please. Thank you.”

“Pop the hood, and I’ll be back in a moment.” Clay returned to his car to grab the cables and reposition his vehicle. After he got everything attached, he said, “Try now.”

Melissa turned the key, and nothing happened. Tears welled again.

“Might be the starter. Don’t believe a jump is gonna solve this problem,” Clay said as the woman tried several times with nary a sound.

A sob burst forth from Melissa, and she couldn’t stop the waterworks again, the hormones of early pregnancy making her all blubbery when normally she rarely cried.

“Mommy, don’t cry,” Marty said from his car seat.

Clay stood staring at her for a moment, unsure of exactly what he should do, but leaving an upset woman and a small child out here alone with a dead car didn’t seem right. “I can wait here with you until a tow truck or taxi can arrive.”

Sniffling and wiping her eyes, Melissa shook her head and started to roll up her window.

“Wait.”

Melissa paused.

“I’m Clay Spenser. I can’t just leave a brother’s family here alone. If you’re not comfortable with me this close, I’ll go wait in my car to ensure you stay safe until your ride comes.”

“How do … brother?”

“You almost said, spun up. I’m assuming your husband is a SEAL. We take care of our own.” Clay donned his most earnest, and hopefully trustworthy expression.

Still somewhat reluctant, Melissa asked, “You’re a SEAL?”

“Yes, ma’am. Please let me help.”

Brushing away another tear that leaked out, Melissa said a silent prayer she wasn’t making a mistake and getting herself into more trouble. “I’m Melissa, and in the back is my son Marty. My phone died, and I don’t have money for a cab or tow truck. Bob’s pay got messed up, and we’re a little strapped at the moment.”

Clay withdrew his wallet. “I’d be happy to call a cab for you and pay for your trip.”

“No, I couldn’t take your money.”

He stopped reaching for the twenties and moved to his driver’s license instead. He pulled it out and showed it to Melissa. “See, I’m Clay Spenser. If you won’t let me do that, how about I give you a ride home?”

She shook her head. “I was on my way to my sister’s … the power got cut off at our place, and well, Bree lives in Newport News.”

Clay pulled out his phone and held it close to the inch opening. “You can call the base to verify I am who I say I am. Then call your sister and tell her you are getting a ride from me. I’ll even give you my license plate number.”

Melissa stared at the phone. “It is too much to ask. That’s forty miles there and forty back. It’ll take you a couple of hours.”

“Got nowhere else to be.” Clay grinned, hoping she would accept his offer.

“No family waiting?”

The answer was no, but Clay deflected, “Going to my brother’s home tomorrow.”

Melissa tentatively reached for the cell phone. She didn’t call the base, but dialed her sister and gave her the details, including the make, model, and color of Clay's vehicle and his plate number too. In the next few minutes, they transferred Marty’s car seat to Clay’s car, and Clay buckled it in. Melissa then harnessed her son in his seat while Clay moved the few gifts from her trunk to his and closed both car hoods after removing the jumper cables.

About to slide into the driver’s seat, Clay noted Melissa shivering because she took off her jacket to tuck around Marty. He went to his trunk to pull out the spare hoodie he kept in his go-bag, but found it missing, and recalled it was still in his laundry hamper. Returning to the front, he slipped off his jacket, got in, and handed it to Melissa. “Here, you can borrow this. Might be a bit big, but it’s warm.”

Melissa stared at Clay once again, surprised by his generosity to a stranger. “I can’t take your jacket.”

“I’m used to the cold. And the heater will keep me toasty. Please put it on.”

Shivering, Melissa conceded, as she said, “I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you or repay your kindness.”

“Let’s just call this a Christmas gift.” Clay put his car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot with the holiday spirit filling him … much like when he helped his grandfather deliver food to those in need on Christmas Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, a bit sugary sweet ... but you know me ... whump is coming.


	3. Best Laid Plans

_ **Denbigh Blvd** _

Clay reached for the coffee Melissa sent with him when he left her sister’s home. As he took a sip, he recalled how both women showered him with thanks when they arrived. Melissa seemed like a nice woman in a difficult position, but luckily her family would help her through the rough patch until the paymaster sorted out the issues with her husband’s pay.

He was glad he went to the store because if he hadn’t, Clay wasn’t sure what would’ve befallen Melissa and Marty. Now they would be sleeping in a warm home, and the little boy would wake up to find a decorated tree surrounded by a hoard of presents. The excess made Clay remember his childhood Christmases again.

In some ways, he believed his non-material celebrations embraced the true meaning of the holiday. It taught him to value people and not things. He could almost hear his grandmother’s soft voice as she reminded him on many occasions, _“The best things in life are not things.”_

One of her other favorite sayings also came to mind. _Life is not measured by the breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away._ In many ways, he appreciated his upbringing. His grandparents loved him and showed it in their actions. They helped shape who he became. If he had grown up with Ash … well, he might be altogether different.

As the dash clock displayed 12:01, officially Christmas Day, Clay was driving on the dark stretch of Denbigh Boulevard, a two-lane road through the dense Newport News Park with no street lights and trees lining both sides. He was heading home later than anticipated because Bree Danvers, Melissa’s older sister, insisted he stay to eat a ham sandwich after he carried in a sleeping Marty. Hungry, Clay gladly accepted the offer since his earlier meal of a half-package of dry ramen didn’t stick with him long.

Orange flashing lights ahead alerted Clay to a vehicle off on the side of the road. His headlights illuminated a woman waving her hands frantically at him. He chuckled as slowed and pulled to the right. “Guess I get to play the white knight again tonight.” Clay zipped up his jacket after putting the car in park. He left it running, wanting to keep the headlights on when he spotted the flat tire on the rear passenger side.

Checking behind him for other cars, out of habit, since this was the only other vehicle he saw since turning onto Denbigh about two miles back. He got out and moved forward as he asked, “Do you need help with the tire?”

“Yes. I’ve never changed one myself. I don’t know how to jack it up.”

“No worries, I’ve changed my fair share. This won’t take long.” Clay’s grin turned a little brighter when he noticed the attractive woman was not wearing a wedding band or engagement ring. Perhaps if things went well, he might get her phone number.

“I’m lucky you came along. The jack is in the trunk.” She moved to stand near the rear passenger door, making space for him.

Clay grabbed the tire iron and jack, and then crouched on the side to place the jack in the proper location.

“I’m Jessica … what’s your name?” She smiled nervously at the blond when he glanced up at her.

“Clay.” A slight sound behind him and a shadow cast on Jessica were his first indicators that the woman wasn’t alone. Clay began to turn and rise, but something slammed into his upper back, knocking his head against the rear panel of the car. Though taken off-guard and seeing stars, Clay’s mind fell back on his training, fisted his hands, and fluidly rose and twisted to confront his attacker.

The second blow from behind sent him to his knees before he could do more than register the scruffy man holding a thick tree branch in front of him. After the third hit, he lay stunned, face first in the dirt, his brain slowly recognizing Jessica landed two of the three blows.

“Bash his head in and then grab his wallet,” Jessica screeched.

“We don’t want to kill him,” the male growled.

Gathering his wits and tucking away his pain, Clay rolled, and based on the location of Jessica’s voice, he kicked out. Her scream when his boot connected with her lower leg rang in his ears, but he knew he must rise and get the hell out of here before they killed him. Muscle memory and ingrained behaviors took over as he tried to comprehend he had been stupid enough to be lured in by a beautiful woman.

Sonny would razz the hell out of him. Jason would give him an epic lecture. Ray would grace him with an expression of grave disappointment. Trent and Brock would cross their arms and shake their heads at his lack of awareness. And all of Bravo would make sure he ran the hills until summer.

Clay staggered to his feet and managed to take four steps towards his car as the man was distracted by Jessica’s cries before her accomplice noted his direction and swung the branch again. This time the tree limb connected with his head and Clay dropped like a rock.

* * *

_**Sonny’s Apartment** _

Disappointed, Sonny dropped his bag on the floor and strode to his fridge. It might be one in the morning on Christmas Day, and he should probably go to bed, but he was still too wound up. His intended trip to Texas was FUBAR.

Lisa backed out of going at the last minute. She said she got called into work, and that may be true, but Sonny suspected the real reason was she got cold feet. After a two hour delay to board the plane, they then sat on the tarmac for six hours because of a mechanical issue. The airline eventually decided they couldn’t fix whatever the problem was, and canceled the flight.

The aircraft taxied back to the terminal, where he disembarked with everyone else. He stood in line for two and a half hours waiting to be booked on another flight. The only one available left three hours later and had a layover in Nashville, so he hung out at the airport bar. After boarding the new plane, they took off without incident, and he had visions of enjoying his mother’s roast beef. He disembarked at Nashville, waited to board the connecting flight, only to hear an announcement that the second leg of his journey had been overbooked, and the gate agent was asking for volunteers to wait for another plane.

No one came forward, so the airline started bumping the last passengers booked, unlucky him … he was one of them. Fed up and unable to book a flight to Texas until the evening of the twenty-sixth because they were all full, he called his mom to let her know he wouldn’t be coming. He then hopped on a flight on a different airline bound for Norfork.

Sonny popped the top to a beer and plopped on his couch. It sucked because he hadn’t been home in a long time. He propped his feet up on the table as he took a swig. Now he would be spending Christmas alone.

In previous years, Alana or Naima invited him over, or he and Brock hung out together. But Brock drove to Florida, Alana died, and Ray wanted to spend the day with his nuclear family. Sonny didn’t begrudge him the time alone, but now he had to figure out what to do with himself.

Mid-swig, Sonny realized what a self-centered ass he’d been this year. Swallowing hard, Sonny wondered what the kid planned for Christmas. He knew Clay would be babysitting Ray’s kids yesterday, but too wrapped up in his own plans, he never bothered to ask what Clay would be doing on Christmas Day. “Shit! Goldilocks is probably gonna spend the day alone, ‘cause sure as hell, he ain’t spending it with Ashhole.”

He pulled out his phone and started a text to Clay, but deleted it several times, unable to figure out what to say that didn’t sound like Clay was an afterthought, or worse. He finally settled on trying for humor. Merry Xmas, Tinkerbell. Guess Santa’s gonna give you a larger than life present this year … time with me. I’m still in Va Beach … call me when you wake up.

Rising, Sonny decided he needed a shower after all the hours spent in airports and planes. He sauntered into his bathroom and set his beer on the counter, turned on the tap, and peered at his reflection as he waited for the water to warm up.

The man staring back at him wasn’t one he was proud of … he had been too caught up in his own life that he failed his little brother. He allowed a distance to develop between him and Clay, and that made him feel terrible because it was too Ash-like … the kid had too damned much experience being abandoned by those close to him. He vowed never to act so selfishly again before stripping down and stepping into the shower.

* * *

_ **Brock’s Home** _

Tiredly, Brock shuffled into his place with Cerb trotting along behind him. Twenty-one hours on the road in the past twenty-four hours made him weary. He stopped to fill Cerb’s water and food dishes, then headed straight to his bedroom and flopped onto his bed.

His plans didn’t go as planned. The drive to Jacksonville had been enlightening. Being cooped up with his new girlfriend for the nine-hour trip revealed character traits in her he didn’t like. She started off complaining that they didn’t fly. He bristled but bit his tongue when she said Cerb could’ve flown in the cargo hold and that he treated the dog too much like a human … it was an animal, after all.

Deftly he managed to change the subject, realizing Oaklynn didn’t understand Cerb’s value and the fact he viewed his dog as better than humans. Then she began criticizing his driving, his choice of gift for her parents, and the length of his hair before subjecting him to a litany of everything wrong with every member of her family. This nasty, snide side of Oaklynn he had not witnessed in all the time they dated. However, to be fair to himself, although they had been going out for several months, they had been spun up a significant portion of the time, so he had what equated to roughly a dozen dates with her.

Brock stared at his ceiling, wishing he had never told Oaklynn he had five days off and never agreed to meet her parents. That meeting hadn’t gone any better than the drive … and he saw very quickly where Oaklynn got her attitude. The look of disdain on her mother’s pinched and scowling face when she spotted Cerb was telling. Her high-pitched scathing demand that his filthy, flea-ridden animal must remain outside was the breaking point.

He dropped Oaklynn’s suitcases at the doorstep, pivoted and strode back to his truck without a word. He and Cerb hopped in, and he drove away, leaving the two women hollering at him from the curb. He didn’t need a woman like that, nor a potential witch-in-law. Better to cut his loses, and drive straight back to Va Beach. When Cerb hopped up beside him, Brock met his eyes and chuckled. “We dodged a bullet, didn’t we?”

Cerb laid his head on Brock’s chest as he gave him a soft “Yip.” _Yes, we did. You should’ve listened to me from the start … I didn’t like her smell._

Brock let out a long sigh as he glanced at the red numbers on his clock … two a.m. He closed his eyes and said, “I’ll call Clay later and see if he wants to come over if he doesn’t have plans.”

Cuddling up next to Brock, Cerb huffed slightly. _You never even asked what my boy was doing for Christmas. You forgot about our packmate … but I forgive you._

* * *

_ **Trent’s Home** _

“I’m so sorry,” Dawn apologized for the hundredth time as she exited the bathroom after taking a quick shower.

“Nothing to apologize for, sweetheart.” Wearing only his sweatpants, Trent wrapped his arms around Dawn and drew her close to his chest. “Mom understands. I’ve canceled my fair share of trips to her due to work. I can't begrudge you needing to do the same.”

“You should’ve gone without me.” Dawn peered into his eyes, secretly glad he chose to stay with her.

“Not leaving you alone on Christmas.”

“My shift should be over by four, and when I get back, you can unwrap your gift.”

Trent grinned, recalling Dawn whispering in his ear that she would be his gift, and to make up for not going to his mom’s, they could spend all day tomorrow in bed if he wished. “Can’t wait.”

Noting it was three-thirty, and she had to be on-shift at the hospital lab by four a.m., Dawn kissed Trent and pulled out of his arms. “Hey, while I’m gone, how about you give Clay a call. I’m sure he might like some company today.”

Trent’s grin faded. _Clay? Company?_ He dropped to the bed, his shoulders sagging.

“What’s wrong?” Dawn asked as she watched Trent’s whole demeanor crumble.

“Oh man, I was so focused on our trip, I totally forgot Clay would be alone. Damn. What kind of brother am I?” Trent raked a hand through his hair but stopped when Dawn softly touched his shoulder.

“You’re the best kind.” Her fingers moved to caress his cheek. “Don’t go feeling all guilty. You each have your lives, even though they’re tightly entwined. No one begrudges Ray or Jason from spending time with their other families. And if I recall correctly, Clay was looking forward to taking Jameelah and RJ to see Santa yesterday. Maybe Ray and Naima invited him.”

“Don’t think so. Ray talked a lot about spending time with just his wife and kids … made it clear he wanted a break from us. Hell, we all talked about our plans with family, and none us gave the kid’s lack of family a second thought.”

Dawn stepped back to grab her pants, needing to dress quickly to get to work on time. “Well, you can repent by waiting to open your gift until later tonight. Call Clay at a reasonable hour, and if Ray didn’t invite him over, tell Clay we would love for him to join us for dinner.”

“Are you sure?”

Dawn turned back to Trent and put her hands on her hips, giving him a steady glare. “He is your brother. Family is important … blood or chosen. Why would I mind?”

Grinning broadly, Trent rose and captured Dawn in an embrace as he kissed her passionately. He lucked out the second time around. His ex-wife gave him so much grief over his commitment to his brothers.

Breathless and her eyes twinkling, for a moment, Dawn forgot all about being on-time, enjoying being in the arms of the man she loved. She was dead serious about the importance of chosen family. She and her siblings were all adopted, and they were her family though they didn’t share a drop of blood.

When Trent released Dawn, he smiled. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Now I gotta run. Call me later and let me know if Clay will be here for dinner.” She stuffed her feet into her boots, pulled on her top, and grabbed her coat and purse.

Trent sunk down on the mattress again and checked the clock as he yawned, needing a few more hours of sleep. He decided to wait until nine to call the kid.

* * *

** _Newport News – Bree Danver’s Home_ **

Gleeful children screamed, “Santa came!” as they raced into the living room. Melissa and Bree wandered in a few moments later with coffee cups in hand. Seven a.m. came early when they stayed up until two waiting for Bree’s husband to come home. But they eventually went to bed when Kevin texted he ran into a situation which required him to stay late.

“Mommy! Santa brought me a sled!” Marty squealed with delight as he dragged it towards his mom.

Melissa flicked her gaze to Bree, who smiled and said, “What are sisters for?” With tears in her eyes, thankful for her generous sister, she crouched as Marty stopped in front of her. “Well, you were a good boy. So he brought you what you wanted.”

“It’s even blue … red would’ve been okay, but I like blue best.” Marty sat on the sled. “Can we go sledding now.”

“Perhaps after breakfast. Why don’t you go open your other gifts.” As her son ran off to join his cousins in a paper storm, Melissa rose and hugged Bree. “I’ve been so blessed.” Her hand went to her stomach, hovering over her unborn baby. “I thought everything was so dark and I was so lost when I couldn’t start the car. But then an angel showed up and gave us a ride here. I’m going to make sure Bob knows who saved us from a cold night in the car so that he can thank him too.”

Bree smiled and lightly laughed. “Clay certainly is handsome enough to be an angel. I hope he’s enjoying his time at his brother’s today.” A cold blast of air as the front door opened sent shivers through Bree, but her eyes lit with happiness as her husband entered.

Kevin shut the door to a chorus of “Daddy, you’re home. Santa came. Look what he brought me.” Though exhausted by a long shift, which showed him not everyone would be having a joyous Christmas, a real smile grew as his children’s joy infused his heart. After hanging his jacket on the coatrack, he went to them, hugging his sons, daughters, and his nephew too. After several minutes, a bit recharged, Kevin, disengaged from the kids and joined Bree on the couch.

Handing Kevin her mug, Bree said, “Looks like you could use this more than me.”

“Thanks.” He took a sip before setting it down to drape an arm over his wife’s shoulders.

“Glad you’re home. Wouldn’t be as much fun without you.” Bree snuggled close. “What kept you so long?”

Kevin shuddered.

“That bad?” Bree probably shouldn’t have asked, but since they were both cops, they tended to talk about the terrible situations they encountered as a way to cope.

“Could’ve been worse. The poor guy will live, but it was close. Had I not found him, he would’ve died of exposure. But we still don’t know who he is. He didn’t regain consciousness before I left. Barry took over for me and said he’d call when the man wakes.”

“What happened?” Melissa leaned forward.

“Not exactly sure. Was coming home on Denbigh Boulevard and spotted a vehicle on the side of the road. I swung around, intending to offer assistance, and I almost ran over the unconscious man lying on the ground. He had been attacked, and apparently left for dead.”

“How do you know that if he hasn’t been awake?” Bree shifted to gaze at Kevin.

“I ran the car’s plates, hoping to get a name, but it came back stolen. He didn’t match the description of the thieves in the BOLO, and his wallet was missing. I’m assuming, but I think he was a good Samaritan who stopped to help with the flat tire and ended up a victim of assault and theft. There were tire tracks to indicate another vehicle had been there. I sure wish we knew his name so we could notify his family.” Kevin sighed.

Melissa scrunched her eyes. “Did you say Denbigh?”

“Yeah, why?” Kevin gazed at his sister-in-law. She and Bob were going through a rough patch, but things would sort themselves out as soon as Bob’s pay got restored. Some idiot mixed up Bob’s name with the name of a sailor who was dishonorably discharged and cut off his paychecks.

“What did the guy look like?”

“John Doe?”

“Yes.”

“Blond hair, a beard—”

“Wearing a brown jacket, a hunter green shirt, jeans, and boots?” Melissa asked as dread filled her.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

Bree and Melissa locked eyes as they both said, “Clay!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope the wait was worth it ... and you were surprised by the twist.


	4. Change of Plans

_ **Newport News - Hospital** _

Clay’s slow climb to consciousness brought with it a throbbing ache in his head and upper back, along with a bone-deep chill. Lashes fluttered in several attempts to lift his lids, and he succeeded, barely, after the fifth one. Slivers of blue only glimpsed his surroundings long enough to recognize ‘hospital’ before shutting when the overhead light illuminating the room began to amplify the drum section beating in his skull.

“Hey. It’s good to see you wake.”

Upon hearing a familiar voice, Clay mumbled, “Melissa?”

Melissa rose from the chair she made her home for the past hour and moved to the bedside, noting his scrunched face. “Are you in pain? I can call the nurse.”

“No nurse. Can you turn off the light?”

“Sure. I’ll close the blinds too. Just a sec.” She returned to him after doing so. “Okay. That should be better now.”

Cracking open his eyes again, Clay peered at Melissa. Many questions flitted around his head, but he asked, “Where am I?”

Melissa’s brows drew together with worry. “A hospital.”

“Yeah, figured that … what I meant is … where, which one?”

“Oh. Mary Immaculate in Newport News. I should probably let the nurse and my brother-in-law know you’re awake.”

“Why are you here?”

Melissa halted halfway in her turn and refocused on Clay, a soft smile coming to her face as she got the opportunity to use the words Clay had said to her only last night. “We take care of our own.”

An involuntary shiver ran through Clay, causing his body to noticeably shudder.

Reaching for an extra blanket folded at the foot of the bed, Melissa couldn’t believe the turn of events and now was her turn to help him. “The doctor said you might be feeling cold when you woke.” She unfurled the blanket and tucked it around Clay. “Better?”

Still chilled, Clay nodded, but the motion brought a spike of pain and soft moan. His sluggish mind still foggy he wondered how he ended up here … with Melissa at his bedside.

“I’ll be right back. You need some pain relief, and Kevin needs to speak with you.” Melissa hurried out.

Clay scanned his room, moving only his eyes, not wanting to move a muscle. He wasn’t alone long. Melissa soon returned with three people … a doctor, a nurse, and another man. The nurse administered medication via his IV as the doctor asked Melissa and the other man to step out into the hall so he could do his assessment.

“Well, young man, you’re quite lucky to be alive,” Dr. Hermann proclaimed as he finished his exam. “You received several hard blows to your back, and one significant one to your head, resulting in a grade three concussion. Fortunately, we found no brain bleeds. You also arrived here in a state of severe hypothermia. Your body will be quite sore for a while. I plan to keep you at least a day for observation. If no adverse signs arise, you should be able to go home tomorrow, provided you have someone to assist you.”

Closing his eyes, Clay’s shoulders sagged. Ray was the only one in town, and Clay refused to ruin Ray’s time with his family by calling him. Opening up again, he asked, “When can I go home alone?”

“A few days. Let’s play it by ear, shall we?” Hermann made a few notations on the chart.

“Okay.” His shivering increased, and his nurse covered him in a third blanket as he wondered if he would ever be warm again.

“I’ll bring you some hot tea,” Beth said as she tucked the coverlet over her patient’s feet.

“Thanks.”

Satisfied with his patient’s memory, concentration, central nervous system functions, and hearing no rails in his lungs, but noting his sluggishness, Dr. Hermann said, “Officer Danvers would like to speak with you if you are up to his inquiry. If not, say the word, and I’ll inform him he must wait.”

“I’ll talk to him now.” Clay lowered his lids, taking a moment to gather his wits as the doc left.

Re-entering the room, Melissa hurried to Clay. “Doc says you’re doing remarkably well. I’m so sorry. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t drive me to my sister’s place.”

Kevin waited quietly beside his sister-in-law. She insisted on coming to the hospital to confirm if the man he discovered almost frozen to death was indeed Clay Spenser and then refused to leave until he woke, so he wouldn’t be alone in an unfamiliar place.

“Not your fault,” Clay said as he re-opened his eyes. “You should be with Marty … not here.”

Melissa smiled. “Marty is having fun sledding with his cousins. When Kevin told us why he was late getting home, I just had to come. They didn’t know who you were. What happened?”

Clay glanced at the man in street attire, not a uniform.

“Oh, this is Kevin Danvers, my brother-in-law, and a police officer. He found you unconscious and near-frozen on Denbigh Boulevard.”

“Mr. Spenser, can you tell me who assaulted you?”

“A man and a woman who called herself Jessica, though that might not be her real name.” Clay went on to describe the sequence of events, as he privately chastised himself for his lack of awareness and wondered what Jessica hit him with.

Kevin nodded as he jotted down his notes. “I found a tire iron on the ground, and it matches the shape of the bruising on your back. Lucky she didn’t hit you in the head with it, or you might not be among the living now. If you are up to it, I can bring in a sketch artist to draw the woman, might help us find your attackers.”

“Yeah.” Clay’s eyes drooped, fatigue getting the better of him.

“This afternoon will be soon enough. Clay needs rest,” Melissa interjected as the nurse appeared with a mug of tea.

Wanting the warm liquid, but not possessing the desire or energy to move, Clay said, “Please put it on the table for now.”

Beth grinned. “Pain meds will make you sleepy. I’ll warm this up when you are ready to drink it.” She checked his vitals before exiting.

“Would you like me to call your brother?” Melissa offered. “I’m sure he will be worried when you don’t show up.”

“I’ll call him later.” An afterthought popped into his mind. “You said they took my wallet. Did they take my phone and watch too?”

“I believe so. You weren’t wearing a watch, and no phone was found in your clothing.” Kevin added those to the list of stolen items. He turned to Melissa. “I’m finished, are you coming home or staying?”

Torn between wanting to be with her son, and not wanting Clay to be alone, Melissa hesitated.

Clay noted the reluctance, and said, “I’m going to sleep. You should go and be with Marty. He’s missing out on his dad, he shouldn’t have to miss his mom too. Being with family on Christmas is important. I’m in good hands here.”

“Are you sure?”

The medication and his concussion making him less guarded with his words, Clay said, “Yeah. I would’ve given anything for my parents to be with me at Christmas as a kid, but my mom was dead, and my father didn’t care enough to visit me or even send a card or gift.”

Melissa sucked in a soft breath. “But you had your brother?”

“I’m an only child.” Clay’s head lolled to the side, the pain meds doing their job quite well, dragging him closer to sleep.

The term ‘brother’ clicked with Melissa. If Clay didn’t have a biological brother, he must be referring to a teammate. When it became apparent Clay succumbed to sleep, Melissa sighed and glanced at Kevin. “I’m going home with you. I have a few calls to make.”

Noting the tell-tale gleam in Melissa’s eyes, Kevin chuckled. “I’m sensing Clay isn’t going to be alone today if you have anything to do with it.”

Linking her arm in Kevin’s, she said, “I know the perfect way to thank him for helping me last night.”

* * *

_ **Sonny’s Apartment** _

A growl emitted as Sonny gripped his cell phone … tempted to chuck it into the wall. Mostly he was mad at himself. His carelessness and selfishness were to blame for Clay’s lack of response to the fifteen phone calls and twenty or so text messages he sent in the past three hours. Every time the phone rang twice but was deliberately sent to voicemail. He was being purposely ignored … cause if it were a dead phone, it would go straight to voicemail, and if the kid didn’t hear it ringing or buzzing, it would take six rings before ending up in voicemail. And every one of his messages said delivered.

Furiously typing in a fit of anger, not caring about typos, Sonny typed, **quit being a little shit. stp sulking. dosn’t suit u. call or text me bck. marry fucking xmas**

As he was about to hit send, his phone rang, and before he saw the ID, relief swept through him, only to be dashed when he spotted Brock’s face. “Hello.”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” Brock responded to the brusque greeting.

“Sorry. Bad mood. Have you talked to Clay today?” Sonny paced his living room, too agitated to sit.

“No. That is the reason I’m calling. Ditched my now ex-girlfriend in Florida, and I’m back in Va Beach. I’ve tried reaching Clay all morning. Do you know what his plans were? Was he going somewhere where he might not be getting signals?”

Halting, Sonny’s gut twisted. “He’s ignoring you too? Me, I understand, but not you.”

“Ignoring you? What do you mean?”

“Been calling and texting him since nine to see if he wanted to hang out today. I’m back here too. Long story. Tell you later. But the little shit is sulking hasn’t responded once.”

Brock sunk onto his chair. “You know, he has a right to be mad. We were all so wrapped up in our plans, we forgot Clay would be alone … no family, no girlfriend. Hey, I’m getting a text, it might be him, hang on.”

“Me too.” Sonny pulled up his message app and found a group text from Jason, and a knife twisted in his heart as he read, **Clay is in Mary Immaculate Hospital in Newport News. Attacked and robbed when he stopped to help a stranded motorist. Booking a flight and will be there in four hours. I’ll update you further after I arrive.**

“Shit,” Brock and Sonny said simultaneously.

As Sonny typed, he asked, “Brock, we could drive there in about forty minutes, you up to a trip?”

“Hell, yes.” Brock read Sonny’s response in the group text. **Me and Brock are in va beach, we’re going drive there now**

Followed by one from Trent. **I’m still in town. I’ll go too. Want to carpool? **

Brock sent.** I’ll drive. Swing by to pick up Sonny first, then Trent.**

Ray’s text came next. **Damn, this explains why he didn’t show up at eleven like he said he would. What was he doing in Newport News?**

Jason responded. **Don’t have the full story, but something about giving a ride to someone in need. Stop by Clay’s apartment and pick him up a set of clothes … the message I received said his were cut off in the ER.**

After plans were made and Sonny disconnected with Brock, he peered at his unsent message to Clay. He deleted it, glad Brock’s call interrupted him before he could be more of an ass to Clay. He let out a long sigh and went to his bedroom to dress before Brock arrived, thankful for whatever role fate or God played in making sure he was here and not in Texas today. He was only an hour or so from being able to take care of his little brother. Being alone on Christmas was terrible, but being alone and in the hospital on Christmas when all the kid did was try to be helpful was much worse. 

* * *

_ **Clay’s Apartment** _

As Trent waited with Brock and Cerb for Sonny to unlock Clay’s door, he was surprised when Ray turned the corner and strode down the hall to join them. “What are you doing here?”

Ray smiled and shared, “Bless Jameelah’s beautiful heart, she begged me to go. My decision was made the moment Jameelah started crying after she overheard Naima and I talking about what happened. Also, if we take two vehicles, there will be room for Clay to ride back with us if he is released. Naima and the kids are setting up RJ’s room for him now. Clay’s gonna stay with us.”

“He might want to stay here, though. The choice should be his,” Brock said as he entered Clay’s place.

Sonny headed straight for the bedroom to gather clothing while the others stood in the main room.

A scowl formed on Trent as he eyed the half-eaten dry ramen. The kid’s nutritional habits were never the best, but this was a new low point. Without a second thought, Trent went to the kitchen and checked the cupboards and fridge. His scowl deepened. “What the hell did he plan on eating? There’s absolutely fucking nothing here.”

“He probably planned on ordering pizza. We’ll have to rectify his lack of provision if he’s gonna be homebound for a bit.” Brock leaned on the counter, noting the lack of holiday decorations, but didn’t think much of it, since he rarely went to the trouble of decorating his place unless he had a girlfriend or company coming over. Spying the crayons, he grinned. “We call him kid and all, but look, he really is still a kid … he has crayons.”

Ray chuckled. “Those are probably the ones RJ left here yesterday.”

“Guys.”

Sonny’s sad tone had them all turning towards him. He held Clay’s backpack in one hand and a slip of paper with a tree drawn on it in the other.

“What’s that?” Brock moved forward.

“It was taped to his wall.”

“Did the kids draw that?” Trent asked Ray.

“Too well done for RJ, perhaps Jameelah made it for him. She did tell me he didn’t have any decorations. One of the reasons she wanted him to come over today. She said Clay gaped at the mall’s displays like RJ … bright-eyed with wonder. She sensed he sidestepped revealing his childhood Christmases when she asked. All he told them was he once got to string a popcorn garland, and his presents were nice before changing the subject.”

“He did grow up in Liberia … couldn’t have been the typical holiday we celebrate in America.”

Brock’s statement punched them all in the solar plexus as their guilt for ignoring their youngest teammate hit them full force.

Ray pulled them out of their heads as he said, “Sonny, you got his clothes?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s go.” Ray started for the door.

They filed out, and Sonny locked the door behind them before carefully putting the picture into the backpack. _At least your hospital room will have a tree today. We’re coming, little brother. You won’t be alone for much longer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, but I was finalizing my website and putting the finishing touches on Zulu Six, the first book in my new series. If you like my writing, you can check out my new website for the latest sneak peeks on my upcoming novels. https://www.lauraactonauthor.com/


	5. Generosity of Strangers and Kindness of Family

_ **Gulfstream En Route to Newport News** _

Mikey gaped as he peered out the window of the Gulfstream III. Although concerned about Uncle Clay being hurt, he couldn’t suppress his excitement. Flying in a private jet was not something he thought he would ever be doing when he woke up today. He briefly tore his eyes from the view from 41,000 feet in the air when Emma held out a can of cola to him. “Thanks. This is so cool.”

“Yeah, it is.” Emma sat in the plush leather couch across from her brother. This morning had been a whirlwind of activity after Dad got the call from the base. Learning Clay had been left for dead after stopping to help an apparently stranded woman change a flat tire ticked her off in so many ways. _How could Clay fall for such a ruse? Doesn’t every woman know how to change a friggin’ tire now? That was one of the first things Dad taught me to do. I had to prove myself capable of doing so before he allowed me to get my driver’s license._

Emma stopped and conceded a few points. _To be fair, Clay is chivalrous when needed, like when a damsel is in distress, and most girls didn’t grow up with a father whose life is a constant stream of planning, adapting, and executing missions. Expecting the unexpected and being prepared to deal with situations is something I learned early on … one trait I share with Dad. And today is totally unexpected._

The second thing that upset her was the realization the thieves would likely be long gone and would never pay for the crime they committed against one of the sweetest guys she ever met. Emma adored Clay and now considered him an older brother. She sighed at the thought of how much she had grown up in the past few years … much of it necessary after her mother’s death.

In truth, the first time she met Clay, she had a teenage crush on the handsome, blond SEAL ... the youngest man to ever join her dad’s team. Although they were twelve years apart in age, she had many innocent and some not so innocent daydreams of being Clay’s girlfriend. But her crush evolved into a more mature and realistic relationship … a brother-sister one … which was better when she comprehended how her dad felt about Clay.

It only took a few missions and a couple of times of Clay being injured for her to recognize Dad treated Clay different than any other member. He tended to be more protective … like a father. A smile came to her face as she recalled the lecture Clay received, followed by a grounding after one mission where Clay did something her dad declared dumb. Although Dad didn’t reveal any mission details as he chewed out Clay in their living room, he got his message across with stern words and iron-hardened glares. Emma never thought a grown man would abide by a teenage discipline measure, but Clay did.

Clay moped around their house for a full two weeks, doing chores and going to bed when Dad told him. It was then her mindset changed to a more sisterly concern. Clay woke in a cold sweat and crying out in the middle of the night several times while grounded. The first night, she went downstairs to find out what was happening, but quietly crept back up to her room after witnessing Dad holding Clay, offering comfort as he did for her and Mikey. She never knew exactly what caused Clay’s nightmares, but she assumed it must’ve been something that occurred on the mission … perhaps the reason he got grounded.

Emma scanned the jet’s interior until her eyes landed on her dad. He had been anxious, like a caged animal, after learning Clay was in a Newport News hospital. He didn’t want to leave her, Mikey, and Grandma on Christmas Day, but the pull to be there for his brother-son-teammate had been intense. They all urged him to go, none of them wanting Clay to be alone.

Her gaze shifted to Felix Stewart and George Knight. They had both men to thank for their current mode of transportation. Emma somewhat remembered Mr. Stewart, he was in the teams when her dad joined DEVGRU, but according to Dad, Stewart retired a few years later and became an employee of Mr. Knight. Providence or the touch of God’s hands played a role in them all being on this plane today. Pulled from her musings by her grandmother sitting beside her, Emma turned to her and smiled.

“Do you want to come with me or stay with your dad?” Linda asked.

“I’ll go with you. Dad will likely want a few hours with Clay. Besides, I promised Naima I would help.”

Linda glanced at Mikey, who appeared wholly engrossed with watching the clouds, which for him was a unique experience looking down on them instead of up at them. “What do you think he will want to do?”

Emma lightly chuckled. “He’s coming with us to keep RJ entertained. I’m not giving him a choice. Though, if I did, I think he would choose the option that allowed him to fly again. Bragging rights at school.”

Michael twisted to look at his sister. “No one can top this … flying on Mr. Knight’s jet. Hey, I need proof.” He dug in his pocket and handed Emma his phone. “Take my picture.”

“Please,” Linda reminded her grandson.

“Please, and thanks.” Mikey posed with a huge grin, and then several ways he thought appeared cool.

A little further back, Jason observed his kids and grinned. He remained awed by the chain of events and how present and former SEALs came together to help both Bravo and Echo brothers. Due to Melissa Clarkson’s situation, Eric contacted Echo’s team leader, Master Chief Garret McBlain, who was still en route home from their mission in Brazil to provide him a sitrep on the wife and son of McBlain’s rookie.

After Garret explained what transpired to Bob, the rookie called his uncle Harry to request a favor. Harry had raised Bob after his parents died and also used to run with Felix on Echo Team back in the day. Jason recalled Felix and Harry, although both men retired a few years after he joined Bravo. According to the scuttlebutt, Felix went to work for Knight Aviation, using his skills to become Knight’s lead bodyguard. After speaking with his nephew, Harry contacted Felix and made his entreaty.

Jason was stunned when Mr. Knight called him out of the blue this morning, shortly after he got off the phone with the airlines, frustrated he couldn’t book seats for Emma, Mikey, and his mom. The aviation mogul and avid supporter of veterans made him an offer he couldn’t and frankly, didn’t want to refuse. Knight’s generous offer to fly them all to Newport News was further amended after Jason arrived at the airport and spoke with Felix about a conversation he had with Ray.

Ray conveyed to him the fact Clay’s cupboards were bare, and the only decoration hanging in his apartment was a hand-drawn tree, which Jameelah indicated she didn’t draw. Ray also told him about Clay’s deflection when the kids asked Clay about his Christmases. Still reeling with a sense of guilt for forgetting Clay didn’t have any family to spend the holiday with, a new plan grew out of the spirit of giving. Everyone was on board, and both Clay and Bob would be the recipients of much needed Christmas joy.

* * *

_ **Newport News - Hospital** _

“Shhh!” Ray admonished as Sonny pushed into Clay’s room, making enough noise to raise the dead. Well, not quite, but the jingling of the horse bells was loud enough to wake Clay, and with a concussion, any noise might be painful. With a broad grin on his face, Ray observed as Sonny silenced the jingle bells and tiptoed the rest of the way into the room. The sight of their burly Texan wearing an elf hat, complete with pointy ears, made Ray chuckle. “You’ve been busy.”

Sonny nodded as he whispered, “Mission Decorate Tiny Tim’s Room is a success. Brock and Trent are carrying up the rest, and Davis is parking her car.” Sonny set the box of mismatched, but colorful decorations on one of the many chairs they procured from the waiting room.

When they arrived about three hours ago, they found the kid sound asleep, and none of them wanted to wake him. Beth, Clay’s nurse, said the heavy-duty pain meds would likely keep him that way for most of the day, and he needed the rest. Sitting in the stark white room, the only hint of Christmas cheer being the crayon drawn tree he taped to Clay’s wall made them all a bit depressed as they waited. That is when the idea came to Sonny, and the four of them began to brainstorm how they could brighten up Clay’s room.

A phone call to Jason, who had been on his way to Knight Aviation’s airfield, snowballed Sonny’s idea and soon included texts back and forth with Eric, Lisa, Mandy, Naima, Dawn, and Emma. Once Naima put the word out to the teams’ wives and girlfriends network about how Clay ended up in the hospital after selflessly helping Melissa and Bob’s pay predicament, donations poured in.

With Emma on a plane and Dawn still at work, Lisa went back to her roots as a logistics officer and coordinated the collection of decorations and acted as the delivery driver. Eric had been assigned a difficult task commiserate to his rank, one they hoped would be successful. Naima also took on a special task with the assistance of Mandy and Jameelah. It turned into a full family affair with everyone doing their parts.

Brock entered with Cerb at his heels, having received permission for his dog to be in the room. He smiled as he pulled out a rolled length of glittering garland from the box he set down. “Gonna look like a Santa’s wonderland when we finish decking the halls.”

“More like a decorating machine went haywire and belched out whatever the hell it wanted, whether it matched or not,” Trent whispered as he entered with two cartons.

The four guys all chuckled, but a slight shift on the bed silenced and froze them in place. They wanted everything set up before Clay woke. When the kid settled again without rousing, they set to work. Lisa joined them a few minutes later, pulling two extra-large rolling coolers behind her and wearing an oversized rucksack on her back.

“What’s in those?” Sonny asked, happy to spend some time with Lisa today, after all. Turned out, she actually did have to go to work, but the operation, Echo’s mission, had ended successfully, and they were now on their way home, so she was free to help with their Clay project.

“You’ll find out later.” Lisa positioned the three items in the corner before moving to the bed to take her first look at Clay. She always marveled at how young Clay appeared in sleep … sometimes he didn’t seem old enough to be a SEAL, let alone a DEVGRU operator. She sighed, grateful Officer Danvers found him before it was too late. Blackburn had spoken directly with the cop and got the full story, then shared it with all of Bravo.

Lisa smiled as she turned and offered to help with hanging ornaments from the garland Trent and Brock already strung on the walls. Ray set up the nativity scene, which came from his home. Lisa suppressed a giggle as Sonny started blowing up the six-foot-tall snowman … a contribution from Full Metal.

Everyone turned when the door opened, and Ray moved to help Jason, who walked in laden with several bags. Jason handed off two and grinned at the sight before him. “How’s the kid?”

“Still sleeping.”

“Good.” Jason placed the remaining bags on a chair and went to Clay’s bed as the others continued to deck the walls. He noted the discoloration on Clay’s forehead, which would soon change to a darker blackish-blue. Jason figured that is where the kid’s head hit the car with the first blow. What he couldn’t see was the back of Clay’s head, where several stitches would indicate where the blow responsible for the concussion landed.

The tension began to seep slowly from him upon viewing Clay. They could’ve lost him … due to a stupid robbery of all things. He gave strict, but most likely unnecessary orders, to the guys not to lecture or razz the kid about stopping to help a woman who appeared to be in need. They all would’ve done the same, and none of them would’ve ever thought about it being a trap with someone lying in wait to clobber and rob them.

Resisting the desire to lay a hand on Clay’s shoulder and give him a reassuring squeeze, Jason exhaled slow and long. _I’m sorry I forgot about you. Won’t happen again, Kid._ Jason was pulled from his thoughts as the door opened, allowing entry to Eric and Mandy. Both came in laden with several colorfully wrapped boxes and wearing grins. “Were you able to resolve the issue?” Jason asked.

Eric handed off his packages to Brock, as he said, “Yes. Ruffled a few feathers, but once they found out the full circumstances, they rectified the issue rather fast. Bob’s back-pay will be deposited in his account by the end of tomorrow. I also put NCIS in contact with the police detective working Clay’s case, but I asked the agent and detective to wait until tomorrow to speak with Clay.”

Mandy joined Jason and Eric after placing her boxes on the rolling table near the bed. “I made a few phone calls, and a friend of mine who works for the FBI is willing to help too. Based on Clay’s description of his attackers, he said it matches a couple wanted in connection with four members of a family found murdered in Baltimore. The stolen car with the flat tire belonged to them.”

“Our boy was lucky then if they’ve killed before.” Eric rubbed his beard.

“Did pinging Goldilock’s phone, result in their current location,” Sonny asked.

“No. It must be off or dead now. But they did identify the path based on your numerous calls and texts. The last one put them just outside of Montgomery, Alabama.” Mandy met Sonny’s gaze and read the anger boiling beneath his surface. Even if they located the duo, she would not tell him the precise location because the protective and occasionally hot-headed Texan didn’t need to be brought up on murder charges himself. Better to leave the apprehension to the FBI and local law enforcement.

Jason’s phone buzzed, and he tugged it out of his jean’s pocket. “Emma says they landed in Va Beach. She expects they’ll be back here in about two hours.”

“Then we better finish decorating,” Lisa said with a smile as she glanced at Sonny, happy to be able to be with him and the rest of her Bravo family on Christmas despite the circumstances which brought them all together.

* * *

_ **Danvers Home** _

Melissa nearly dropped Bree’s fine china plates while setting the dinner table when Marty let out a high-pitched, “DADDY! DADDY!” Her eyes shifted to Bree, who hugged Kevin and only smiled at her with one of those looks Melissa recalled as a kid … Bree had been in on this surprise.

“I’ll take over. You go greet that husband of yours.” Bree released Kevin and took the plates from Melissa.

Happy tears filling her eyes, Melissa hurried to the front room, where she found Marty wrapped tightly in Bob’s arms. Both her guys wearing bright smiles as Marty told his dad all about sledding with his cousins on his new blue sled Santa brought him because he was a good boy all year. Her hand went to her mouth as she started to cry in earnest … stupid hormones making her a blubbery mess.

Bob spied his wife, and strode forward, keeping Marty in one arm as his other reached out and pulled Melissa close to him. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

Finding her voice, Melissa mumbled into his now tear-dampened coat, “Merry Christmas, my love.”

After several minutes of holding his family, Marty began to squirm, wanting down to get his sled to show his dad. Bob set Marty down and then placed two fingers under Melissa’s chin and tipped her face up so he could see her. His thumb lightly brushed the salty liquid from her cheek. “I’m so sorry you were stranded. I should’ve—”

Melissa halted Bob by joining their lips. Pulling back after a long smooch, she asked, “How did you get here?”

A tug on Bob’s leg made him look down and smile as Marty stood there, beaming up at him as his little boy said, “Here’s my sled, Daddy.”

Bob kissed Melissa’s cheek. “I’ll tell you all about it in a moment.” Bob’s heart burst with love as he crouched and listened intently as his son gushed about the sled.

Ten minutes later, the Danvers and Clarkson families gathered around the dining table filled with a feast. Bob met Kevin’s gaze. “I’d like to say grace if that’s alright with you?”

“Please.”

They all bowed their heads and clasped hands. “Lord, I have so much to be thankful for this year. Thank you for protecting my family by sending Clay Spenser to them when I couldn’t be there. Thank you for guiding Kevin to Clay and for the competent doctors and nurses who are now caring for him. Thank you for a loving family who opened their home to us in our time of need and made today a Christmas to remember. Thank you for the generosity of strangers and kindness of brothers I’ve yet to meet. Thank you for all your blessings, and most especially for my beautiful, kindhearted, and dazzling wife. Amen.”

Bob lifted his head and smiled at Melissa, who had tears in her eyes again. The only time he recalled her crying so much was when she was pregnant with Marty. Bob’s eyes rounded with wonder and surprise as he put together several pieces of a puzzle in his mind. “Are you?”

Melissa’s hand went to her still flat abdomen as she smiled. “Yes.”

“Are you what?” Kevin asked, ignorant of the non-verbal communication between Melissa and Bob.

Bob laughed with pure joy and embraced Melissa again, also knowing the debt he owed Clay Spenser just grew.

Kevin turned to his wife. “Bree, what’s going on?”

“Well, I do believe next year there will be another little Clarkson at this table.”

The reason Melissa declined a glass of wine with dinner became clear to Kevin now. “Congratulation. This is truly a wonderous Christmas filled with miracles.

After plates were laden with delicious food, and the general liveliness of the kids settled to a low roar as their mouths filled with ham, potatoes, and all kinds of trimming, Melissa prompted Bob, “So how exactly did you get here?”

Three adults paid attention as Bob said, “This is partly your doing, sweetheart.”

“Mine? How?”

“Calling the base and making sure they got a message to Clay’s CO, is what set things into motion. Lieutenant Commander Blackburn contacted Garret while we were en route home to tell him what happened to you and Marty. Garret told me, and then I called Uncle Harry. I wanted to help when I learned Jason, that is Clay’s team lead, couldn’t book a flight for his whole family to get to Clay. Things snowballed, and well, Harry contacted an old buddy who works for Mr. Knight, and they arranged to fly me straight here after I landed in Va Beach.”

Melissa gaped at her husband, never thinking her efforts to inform Clay’s team of his circumstance would ever benefit her in any way.

Bob chuckled. “Clay won’t be alone … his entire team and their families are either in Newport News now or will be soon. And, I received a text from Garret that Blackburn got my pay sorted out. Tomorrow, Garret, Doug, and Sam are going to fix our car and drive up here to deliver it, so we have transportation home.”

Pleased her sister had an extended community of friends and family like she and Kevin enjoyed with their coworkers, Bree said, “Tell them they are going to stay long enough to enjoy dinner with us.”

Tears rolled down Melissa’s cheeks again.

“Mommy, why are you crying again?” Marty’s concerned little voice asked.

“These are happy tears. I’m overjoyed and so blessed.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!!! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I know many like to ship Emma and Clay, but this is a different take, one that feels more natural to me. I promise the next chapter will be Clay waking up.


	6. Christmas to Remember

_ **Newport News - Hospital** _

A couple of hours later, with Clay still sleeping soundly, Mandy, Eric, and Lisa offered to go grab every one coffee from the café, leaving only the seven members of Bravo in the room … yes, Cerb counted though he didn’t have a specific number designator. The guys scattered around the dual-occupancy room, which fortunately only contained one patient, and unless the hospital got a massive influx of sick or injured, Clay would remain the sole bed-bound inhabitant.

Sonny grinned, pleased with the transformation of the dreary room … now cheerfully decorated. He continued to stare at Clay, part of him wishing the kid would now wake up and enjoy his Christmas. Yet another part hoped he would continue to sleep a bit longer. That part was the piece of him that harbored the guilt he felt for leaving his little brother alone on Christmas. Sonny turned to peer at Ray when he spoke.

“Naima just texted. They landed and will be here soon.” Ray shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Should we wake him now?”

Brock’s gaze went from Clay’s backpack with his clothes, back to the gown-clad kid. “He might like to be dressed before everyone is in his room.”

“Might also need pain meds,” Trent added.

Jason nodded, all suggestions on-point. “I’ll do it.” He rose and moved to Clay’s bed as the others also stood and formed a semi-circle around the bed. With a light touch, Jason patted the kid’s shoulder. “Clay. Clay, time to rise and shine.”

An indistinct mumble came from Clay, and Jason repeated his action. “Wake up, Clay.”

“Wanna sleep,” Clay murmured, not opening his eyes. He wished Grandfather would leave him be. He didn’t want to leave his dream of Christmas with his mom and dad. Snow fell outside, a roaring fire inside made his home warm, tons of presents surrounded a six-foot-tall pine tree in the corner of the room, and laughter came from him and his parents as they gathered at the table for a feast. Refusing to wake, desperately hanging onto the world his mind created, Clay attempted to burrow deeper into his bedding.

The stinging on the back of his head made Clay wince. Intervening alone when those mercenaries tried to rape Janjay had been colossally stupid and could’ve resulted in his death. Grandfather called out to him again, and although not wanting to face the consequences, he couldn’t hide from the lecture he knew was coming, so he began to stir. “Getin’ up,” he mumbled out as he tried to roll over. Pain rippled through his upper back, and he groaned.

“Easy. Don’t move that way,” Trent said as he reached out to prevent Clay from rolling onto the side which took the hardest hits. Though the blows from the tree branch and tire iron were significant and would hurt like hell for a while, the kid luckily didn’t have any broken bones.

Grandfather’s restraining hand caused Clay to return to his previous position. “Sorry, Grandfather. I was stupid. Won’t happen again. I hurt. Can I go back to sleep? Please.”

The men exchanged bewildered looks at the term grandfather.

“Brother, if you’re hurting, we’ll call the nurse,” Ray said as he reached for the call button.

Trent stayed his hand. “Wait.” He refocused on Clay. “Open your eyes, Clay.”

Clay scrunched his face. _That isn’t Grandfather. How can Trent be here?_ “That you, Trent?”

“Yes. Open up.” Trent moved so his face would be in Clay’s line of sight. At first, he worried this might be a repeat of Mexico when the kid lost his memory, but Clay recalling his name boded well.

Cracking his eyelids open only a slit, Clay spied a bleary version of Trent. He lifted a hand, wincing again as the movement caused pain in his upper back, he rubbed his eyes to clear his vision. “Trent.”

“That’s me.” Trent grinned.

Time-warping to the present, thoughts of being sixteen on his last and most painful Christmas in Liberia dissipated as the reality of where he was at came rushing back. “Why are you here?”

Moving backward, allowing Clay to see more than only his face, Trent said, “Where else would I be when my brother is hurt? Merry Christmas, Kid.”

Clay’s eyes widened in surprise as his team came into view. He couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Sonny stood at the foot of his bed, wearing a goofy smile and an elf hat … with pointy ears. Not to be outdone, Cerb perched his front paws on his bed and sported reindeer antlers on his head. How Brock got those to stay, Clay couldn’t figure out. And Brock … he wore one of the ugliest Christmas sweaters he’d ever seen. Ray grinned at him as he shifted his eyes to Jason. It was Jason’s hand on his shoulder … not his grandfather’s.

“Why are you all here? You should be with your families.”

“We are. Have you forgotten you’re family?” Jason almost cringed at what came out of his mouth, because they all had forgotten Clay this year. 

Scanning beyond the guys, Clay’s brows rose along with the corners of his mouth when he caught sight of the massive amount of decorations adorning every inch of his hospital room walls. Though the one thing he centered on was the tree, he drew. It held a place of honor on the wall with garland encircling it. Overwhelmed, Clay found it hard to speak, but managed to eke out, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Tiny Tim.” Sonny grinned. “Want me to be your crutch and help you get dressed before the ladies come in?”

“Ladies?” Clay scrunched his eyes.

“Lisa, Mandy, Naima, Dawn, Emma, Jameelah, and Linda,” Ray supplied before adding, “the last five should be here soon, and the other two are downstairs in the café with Blackburn.”

Clay blinked, trying to wrap his head around what he just heard. “They’re all here?”

“Yep,” Brock answered.

“Why?”

“We’ll tell you all about it as you dress.” Trent pressed the button to lift the head of Clay’s bed. “Let’s take this slow and easy. If you become dizzy, nauseous, or need pain relief, let me know.”

Allowing Trent and Sonny to help him sit on the edge of the bed, Clay listened as Ray explained what transpired since this morning.

Jason remained in place and raked a hand through his hair, trying to quell the anger which flared when Clay’s gown was removed, and the marks left by the tire iron and tree limb became visible to him. The kid wouldn’t be spending Christmas in the hospital if he only asked him to come with him to Philadelphia. Emma and Mikey wouldn’t have minded. In fact, they would’ve enjoyed having him along. And Mom, well, she developed a soft spot for Clay ever since he ensured Mikey’s safety when the drug-crazed man tried to rob Oscar’s Mini-mart. He was pulled out of his thoughts as Clay started to tip over.

Clay lost his balance as he bent down to pull up his sweatpants. Luckily, Sonny was hovering and caught him before he keeled over. “Thanks.” Clay straightened up and squeezed his eyes shut as the pounding in his head intensified, and nausea surged forth. “Trent.”

“Got you covered.” He held an emesis basin below Clay’s mouth, having correctly ascertained his brother’s need.

With no food in his stomach, Clay only dry heaved and spit out a bit of saliva. When he finished ralphing, he took the plastic cup of water from Sonny, rinsed, and spat. He’d thrown up too damned many times in front of his brothers to be embarrassed by it now but still apologized. “Sorry, not how any of you want to spend Christmas.”

Jason rounded the bed so he could face Clay. “Nothing to be sorry about. You wouldn’t be injured now if I invited you to come with me.”

Wiped out from his exertions, Clay sat on the bed again, glad the painful process of lifting his arms to put on his shirt was already done. He met Jason’s gaze head-on. “And what would’ve happened to Melissa and Marty if I wasn’t at the corner store. Yeah, getting robbed sucks, but that is my fault for being unaware of my surroundings.”

“Hold right there … no one, not a single one of us would’ve done any different if we ran across a woman on the side of the rode in the middle of the night.” Sonny pinned Clay with a hard gaze but couldn’t help the smile forming on his face. “You’re not the only knight in shining armor here.”

“Only the handsomest,” Brock quipped, hoping to lighten the mood. His tactic worked as Sonny took the bait and began gruffing about how all the ladies preferred his looks over a pretty face of a boy. They were all chuckling when a knock sounded at the door.

Eric poked his head in, having overheard the guys while standing in the hall. “Clay decent? If so, there are a few people who would like to come in.”

With a little help from his brothers, Clay scooched back on the bed, and he nodded when Brock held up the covers, silently asking if he wanted them over him. Though dressed warmly, Clay still felt chilled, which was likely due to his bout with hypothermia. Blankets tucked up to mid-torso, Clay said, “Ready.”

A train of people entered, lead by Jameelah, who raced forward and halted, though she wanted to launch herself at Uncle Clay and hug him. She settled for reaching for his hand. “I was so worried when you didn’t show up at our house today. Are you okay? Daddy, says you got hurt bad, and I can’t hug you.”

Clay grinned. “You can always hug me.” He hid his wince as he lifted his arms and leaned forward to embrace Ray’s sweet daughter.

Gently Jameelah wrapped her arms around her uncle and held on. “Hugs always make me feel better. Merry Christmas.”

When Clay released Jameelah, he noticed his room had become quite full with all the smiling faces of those he counted as his family. In awe, they all changed their plans and came to him, his cheeks pinked up, and he was at a loss for words. His aches and pains faded into the background as one by one, the women came forward and hugged him as they wished him a Merry Christmas.

Mikey waited until everyone else greeted Clay before he moved forward. A grin firmly cemented in place, Mikey said, “I wish you hadn’t gotten hurt but I got to fly on a private jet. It was so cool.” He launched into details of his experience, entertaining not only Clay but also RJ, who managed to crawl up on Clay’s bed and snuggle close to his uncle. As Mikey related his story, the rest began unpacking the bags and coolers they brought. Clay glanced over when Mikey finished, astounded by the plethora of food.

Emma spotted Clay staring with an open jaw and chuckled as she went to his bedside. “Wouldn’t be a Christmas dinner without my older brother.” She kissed his cheek. “I’m so glad Officer Danvers found you. I’m not ready to lose another family member. Now. Would you prefer turkey, roast beef, or ham?”

“All three,” Clay said as he found his voice. Starving, only having eaten a cookie, hot chocolate, ramen, and a ham sandwich in the last twenty-four hours, Clay dug into the meal set before him on his rolling table. As everyone filled their plates and found places to sit, compliments to the chefs, which included Naima, Jameelah, Linda, and Emma, were given by all the guys.

Clay learned Naima had been in charge of coordinating all the food. She smoked the turkey she planned for her family and went to Trent’s place to pick up the ham Dawn wanted to make and baked it for her since Dawn had to work. Linda brought the roast she intended to make in Philadelphia and roasted at Naima’s. They worked together to make several side dishes, and Emma and Jameelah made two pies. The wives and girlfriends of Echo Team also contributed, supplying freshly baked rolls, cookies, and a few pies.

As Clay was eating his second slice of apple pie, his nurse came in to do his vitals, and she left with a smile, a piece of pumpkin pie, and instructions to send the other nurses to the room if they wanted pie or cookies since they had much more than they could finish.

Stuffed to the gills, glad his nausea didn’t last, Clay gingerly rested his head on the pillow and scanned his family. They were engaged in multiple quiet conversations, in deference to his concussion. This was the most unusual Christmas he ever experienced. Adam’s words once again filtered into his mind. _Team is the only family you need._ No truer words were spoken to him, though at the time, he discounted Adam’s view of the teams.

“Uncle Clay?”

Clay peered at Jameelah, who sat cross-legged at the foot of his bed, munching on a sugar cookie. “Yeah?”

“Why did you draw a Christmas tree instead of buying one?”

Silence descended in the room as everyone turned to stare at Clay, wondering if he would answer.

Now viewing his childhood Christmases in a new light, Clay smiled. “I grew up with my grandparents in Liberia. They spent their lives giving of themselves and taught me people are more important than material things. They used their meager resources to make the lives of those around them better. Instead of buying a tree that would only last a few days, they bought food that would feed the hungry for weeks. My first Christmas with them, my grandma suggested I draw a Christmas tree and hang it in my room. I drew one every year I lived with them. So this year, when RJ left his crayons at my place, I decided to make one again.”

“What kind of presents did you get?” RJ asked as he sat on the floor with his huge pirate ship.

“The best kind … my grandparent’s love and time. My grandmother made me a new set of clothes every year. She would stay up late for months, hand sewing them for me. On Christmas, my grandfather would take me with him when he delivered the care packages to the needy. Watching the faces of the kids light up, knowing they would eat that day.” Clay choked up a bit, cleared his throat, and said, “Well, it made me appreciate I never went hungry.”

“When Grandpa and I returned, Grandma would have our Christmas dinner ready, and afterward, we would make popcorn … which was a real treat and something I loved as a kid. One year I tried to make a popcorn garland, but it was really short since I ate most of it.”

Captivated by the sincere expression of joy on Clay’s face, the adults realized that although Clay’s Christmases had not been conventional American ones, they did not lack in love and warmth.

Sonny noticed Lisa set her plate down and moved to her oversized rucksack. “Whatcha got in there, Davis?”

Lisa turned as she unzipped her bag. “A little something for Clay and an activity for all of us.” She strolled over to Clay and set the bag down on his bed, then withdrew her gift. “I know it is small, but I thought you might like it.” She pulled out a two-and-a-half-foot tall fake tree. “It is pre-lit, but the nurses said we can’t plug it in here.”

Clay grinned. “Thanks.”

“It’s a little bare, don’t ya think,” Sonny said as he grabbed another gingersnap cookie.

“Which is the reason for our activity.” Lisa pulled out several plastic bags of popcorn, a roll of string, and a package of sewing needles.

Jameelah’s eyes lit up. “We’re gonna make popcorn garland.”

“Yep.” Lisa winked at Clay. “And I bet you’re too full to eat all the popcorn this time.”

Clay smiled. “True.”

“How do we do it?” Jameelah asked with excitement.

When Emma spotted the dubious expressions of her dad and other uncles, she chuckled. “How about those who don’t want to make garland help me making ornaments for the tree?”

Sonny took a plastic fork and stuck it in the branches. “That there is the extent of my artistic ability.”

“Uncle Sonny, you can do better.” Mikey eyed his fun-loving uncle. “I brought markers. You could draw a star for the top.”

“Well, now you’re talking. Texas is the lone star state. Get those markers out.”

As Linda, Ray, Jason, Trent, and Eric began clearing up and packing the leftovers, Brock, Mikey, Dawn, and Sonny huddled in a circle on the floor and started drawing ornaments on paper Sonny acquired from the nurses’ station. The rest moved close to Clay as he showed them how to string popcorn.

Trent kept watch on Clay, noting the creases around his eyes deepening, and realized the kid was hurting as the volume level increased. Instead of putting a damper on the room, he slipped out with Dawn, announcing they were going to grab fresh coffee, but in truth, he went to speak with Clay’s nurse. The two returned with several coffees to cover their absence, and as requested, Beth came in a few minutes later to take Clay’s vitals and give him painkillers, which the kid took without making a fuss.

A short time later, when Trent offered him more juice, Clay quietly said, “Thanks for sending in the nurse.”

“How’d you know?”

“I know you … like you know me.” Clay met Trent’s eyes.

Busted, Trent nodded at the truth of the statement. All six of them knew one another better than any other people on this earth and accepted each other, faults, quirks, and all. “Merry Christmas, brother. Why don’t you close your eyes and rest? No one will begrudge you a nap.”

“Slept most of the day away.” Clay relaxed into his pillow, wishing to keep his eyes open, wanting to not miss a moment of this Christmas to remember but found them drooping. He let them shut for what he believed to be only a few moments, but lifted his lids when he noted in his room to be silent. If not for all the physical evidence everyone had been there, Clay might’ve believed he hallucinated them being there, since the only people in the room now were Jason, Trent, and Sonny. “Where’d everyone go?”

“They left about twenty minutes ago to sing carols in children’s ward,” Jason said as he stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back in the chair.

“Twenty? I just closed my eyes.”

Sonny sauntered over to Clay. “Sleeping Beauty, you’ve been snoozing for over an hour.” His hand waved toward the tree. “All decorated. The star’s the best part, isn’t it?”

Clay gaped at the little tree. Popcorn garland wrapped around it, and small paper ornaments hung on the branches. At the top was the funniest looking star Clay ever saw. He couldn’t keep the mirth from his voice as he said, “Yeah, Sonny, the best.”

“You want a drink?” Trent asked.

“No.” As Clay stared at his tree, a thought popped into his head, and he turned to Jason. “When are you all heading home? It’s gotta be getting late.” He rubbed his wrist, wishing his watch hadn’t been taken since there was no clock in his room.

“In a few hours. But we needed to talk with you first.” Jason straightened up.

“About what?”

“Trent spoke with the doctor, and they feel you are doing well enough to go home, so long as someone stays with you. You have a few choices.”

“Such as?”

Sonny interjected himself into the conversation, “You’re staying at my place.”

“Or mine,” Trent offered.

Jason chuckled. “Actually, you can fly back to Philadelphia with the kids and me. Ray and Brock also offered for you to stay with them. So you need to decide. And before your mind goes off in weird directions, we are all okay no matter who you choose.”

“Speak for yourself. Tiny Tim’s gonna stay with me,” Sonny groused.

Clay considered each one. Going with Jason meant flying, and with a concussion, that didn’t seem like the best option. Ray had wanted alone time with his nuclear family, and although he enjoyed being with Ray’s kids, he wasn’t up to being fun Uncle Clay and didn’t want to disappoint them if he slept. Trent seemed like a natural fit, but this was Trent’s first Christmas with Dawn, and he already usurped the couple’s time. That left Brock and Sonny. Cerb and Brock sure made good companions when he wasn’t feeling well, both quiet, but the expression on Sonny’s face right now, told him his brother needed him to choose him this time.

“One other thing, if you are up to it tonight,” Jason said, breaking into Clay’s thoughts.

“What?”

“The police would like to send over a sketch artist. Fingerprints on the tire iron match those found at a crime scene in Baltimore. A home was burglarized, and four members of a family were killed, bludgeoned to death. The vehicle you stopped to assist belonged to them.” Jason hated to be a downer, but with Clay’s help, justice might be gained for the family as well as Clay if the criminals were caught.

“Yeah, sure. Too bad I don’t have low-jack in my car.” Clay sighed, he really liked his car and would miss it.

Sonny noted the flash of despondence crossing Clay’s face and figured what might be the cause as he said, “They tracked your phone to just outside Montgomery, Alabama. So they have a direction to start, and a BOLO was issued on your car by the FBI and NCIS.”

“How’d they track my phone?”

“Well, I sorta kept calling and texting you until I found out you were in the hospital. They checked your cell records, and the last tower it pinged before it died was in Alabama. Your attackers aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed to leave your phone on.”

Clay rubbed his wrist, and a smile grew. “I can do better than a sketch.”

“How?” Jason sat forward.

“I was wearing my watch. The one that you guys put the tracker in. I didn’t think about it until now, but Officer Danvers said it was not on me. They must have it. And—”

“If they do, the cops can locate them. I’ll go find Lisa and Eric,” Ray said from the doorway, having come back to see if Clay had woken up and overheard the conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay ... my muse took an unscheduled holiday the past few days. I hope it is worth the wait ... oh and you might need some insulin to counteract the sugar overload (this is not my usual whumpage).
> 
> I'm also excited to announce ZULU SIX the first book in my new Strike Force Zulu series is done and published. If you like my writing, you can check out my website for more info -- https://www.lauraactonauthor.com/


	7. Start of a Happy New Year

_ **January 1st – Clay’s Apartment** _

Lounging on his couch, Clay reflected on the past week. He spent a few days with Sonny, then they shifted to his place because Clay preferred his own bed. Sonny stayed with him one more day … unnecessarily hovering like a mother hen. Someone, and no one would claim responsibility, restocked his freezer, fridge, and cupboards before he returned home. He suspected it was a combined effort.

The way his team and their families came together for him on Christmas and the days after made him all warm and gooey on the inside. Celebrating New Year’s Eve last night had been fun too. Ray invited everyone over, and Naima provided him sparkling apple cider since he was not cleared to drink alcohol yet. _Adam was one hundred percent right … team is all the family I need. _

And it extended beyond Bravo now to include Echo’s rookie. Bob called to express his heartfelt thanks for delivering Melissa and Marty to her sister’s home. He also shared his news … there had been a third person Clay helped that night … an unborn child.

Clay’s mind shifted to the only dark spot … his missing car. Both the woman and her partner were dead, and dead people didn’t tell tales. The FBI and Alabama police caught up with Jessica and Bruce outside of Riverview, Alabama. When cornered, the criminals began firing at the cops and agents … believing they could escape. They were wrong, and both died in the shootout … the car they were driving at the time riddled with bullet holes.

The police found evidence in the vehicle that proved the man and woman were the ones who killed the family they robbed. There was no question they were guilty, but questions remained as to why they bludgeoned them to death instead of just leaving them tied up. But in Clay’s mind, he believed the woman might be a bit off her rocker. She had changed from playing the damsel in distress to a cold-blooded murderer in seconds when he stopped to help.

He glanced down at his wrist. The cops also found his watch and wallet and returned them, but his car had not been located. It appeared the duo stole several vehicles along their route, ditching them when they ran out of gas instead of risking being spotted by stopping to refuel. His Nova could be anywhere within two hundred and fifty miles from where he was attacked. Finding his stolen vehicle didn’t seem to be a priority to the authorities, so unless someone reported an abandoned car, he might never get it back … which sucked.

A knock on his door drew Clay from his thoughts. He rose and opened the door to find an unknown male holding a case of beer. “Hello?”

“Hi. I’m Bob Clarkson. Are you Clay Spenser?”

“Yeah. Come in.” He stepped back, allowing Bob to enter.

“Where should I put this?” Bob asked.

“The counter. Can I get you a cold one?”

“No, Garret is putting us through drills, and if I don’t want to be running the hills, I better not be late. I only have time to stop by to say thanks again for helping my wife and kids … and to drop off a tangible thanks for you to share with your team. I appreciate Hayes looping in Blackburn and the lieutenant commander’s help in fixing my pay.”

Clay only nodded, but from the open doorway, Sonny’s voice rang out as he said, “So if your new kid is a boy you naming him Clay?”

Bob chuckled, grinned, and shrugged. He wouldn’t admit it, but Melissa suggested Clay as a boy’s name when they discussed it, but he didn’t think Clay Clarkson sounded quite right. “Gotta be going. See ya around.”

Sonny made way for Bob to exit as he entered.

“Thanks for the beer,” Clay said as he shut his door. Then he turned to Sonny. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m your ride.”

“Where?” Clay hadn’t gotten any texts the team had been spun up or called in for a meeting, and besides, Jason told him he would be benched for his safety for another week.

“Surprise.” Sonny grinned as he chewed his ever-present toothpick. “Grab your jacket.”

Clay did as told and followed Sonny out since he was curious.

* * *

_ **Jason’s Truck** _

Clay peered out the window at the winter landscape, comfortably tucked under a blanket in the back seat of Jason’s truck. He held a cup of steaming hot chocolate in his hands and took a sip every now and then, as Jason, Ray, and Sonny chattered away about something. After following Sonny outside his apartment, he realized Sonny took liberty with the statement, ‘I’m your ride,’ since, in truth, Sonny only drove him to Ray’s home.

The blanket and cocoa were Naima’s doing. She admonished his three chaperons to make sure he didn’t get chilled on their trip. The guys all nodded and readily promised before they hopped into Jason’s vehicle. Still in the dark as to the destination or purpose of the journey, Clay decided to just go with the flow, mostly because men who kept secrets for a living and passed Green Team SERE were unlikely to divulge information unless they wanted.

“You’re awful quiet. You doing alright, Goldilocks?”

Clay twisted his neck to peer at Sonny, who sat beside him. “Sure.”

“Aren’t you curious where we’re going?” Ray asked from the front.

“Sure, but when I asked Sonny, he said it was a surprise. Figured it would be a waste of air to ask again.” Clay finished off his hot chocolate, and when the fuzzy blanket slipped as he set the cup in the holder, he shivered. He hated to admit that after his bout of hypothermia, he still chilled too easily. But since most of their missions took place in hot climates, that shouldn’t affect his performance.

“Well, it’s a long drive. Why don’t you grab a nap?” Ray suggested. Naima had schooled him in the after-effects of hypothermia and indicated Clay might need more rest than usual.

“Not a baby.”

“Never said you were,” Ray huffed. Yeah, he didn’t like being molly-coddled anymore than Clay or the other guys and should’ve kept his mouth shut.

Clay settled back into his previous position, staring out the window listening as Jason started talking about Mikey’s latest hockey achievements. Without meaning to, his lids lowered, and he drifted off to sleep. 

Jason glanced at Clay in the rearview mirror and grinned when he noted Clay nodded off. Concussions were nothing new to team guys, but always a bit worrisome. One reason he would be making sure the kid took it easy for at least a month. He spoke to Blackburn about using Bravo as a last resort until February. And he would limit Clay’s role in missions if they were spun up. Spenser would likely balk, but better to deal with a ticked off kid than chance him getting knocked on the head again too soon.

* * *

_ **Durham, North Carolina** _

Three and a half hours later, Jason came to a stop in the Sweet Frog Brewing Company’s parking lot. Jason grinned as he spotted Trent, Brock, and Cerb waiting for them. “Time to wake the kid.” He opened his door, as did Ray, and both strode over to the other guys, leaving Sonny with the honors.

In the back seat, Sonny gently shook Clay’s shoulder. “Hey, Sleepy Head. We’re here.”

Groggily, Clay stirred and blinked open as he turned to face Sonny. “Here? Where?”

Sonny smiled as he reached for the door handle. “Come find out.” He didn’t wait for Clay, hurrying to join the others.

Clay rubbed his eyes, yawned and stretched as he peered out the window. Though the surroundings were unfamiliar, they could be in anytown USA. He wondered how long he slept as he noted a sign that read, Sweet Frog Brewery. He chuckled. _So they took me to a bar. Some surprise._

Glancing at his watch, wondering how he became so stiff in such a short time, his jaw dropped when he noted almost four hours had passed since he climbed in the truck at Ray’s home. Sliding out of Jason’s vehicle, the frigid air caused him to shiver slightly. Clay almost reached for the warm blanket, not caring Sonny would probably razz him about needing a security blanket. But he resisted and strode around the front, heading for the pub’s entrance.

He froze. His eyes rounded at the sight before him. “SURPRISE!” rang loudly from five brothers as Cerb added his barking to the noise.

Clay laughed … happiness and astonishment flooding and warming him to the core as he stared at his Nova. It appeared to be in pristine condition … no worse for wear after being stolen. He moved forward with long strides as he said, “How did you find it?” His fingertips skimmed the hood as his brothers parted like the Red Sea granting him access.

Jason supplied the details, “You can thank Davis and her techies for scouring tons of traffic camera footage until they spotted your car. Then Mandy contacted her buddy in the FBI, and he contacted local authorities along the route. Durham police located it here after checking recent incidents of stolen vehicles on the twenty-fifth. The only report was from the owner of this bar.”

With a bright grin splitting his face, Clay opened the door and slid behind the wheel. “Wish I knew. I would’ve brought my spare key.”

Sonny tossed a keychain to Clay. “Snagged them from your place last night while you slept.”

Clay squinted. “You were in my place, and I didn’t wake up?”

“What can I say … I’m just exceptionally stealthy.” Sonny grinned.

“More like the little sedative Trent slipped you with your New Year’s Eve apple cider knocked you out.” Brock rubbed his arm as Trent elbowed him. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, I like you better when you are quiet,” Trent grumbled, not sure how Clay would take to being given a sedative, but he had not been sleeping well for several days and had been looking more and more ragged.

Ray stepped in before anything could disintegrate. “We planned on grabbing something to eat here, and then we’ll all drive back to Va Beach.”

Too happy about getting his Nova back to be upset about the sedative, Clay was privately glad Trent had given him one without him having to ask. His nights had been a weird mix of dreams, some good and some terrible, which kept waking him. Accepting his brothers only acted in his best interest, Clay dismissed their underhandedness and said, “I’m hungry. Let’s go inside.”

Clay locked his baby, and with his grin firmly in place, he followed his brothers as they sauntered toward the bar. _This is hands-down one of the best Christmases I ever had._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this mostly feel-good story. Oh, and I always refer to Clay's vehicle as a Mustang, but I'm probably wrong since I can't really tell one model from another. If my hubby were still alive he could've told me what it is in a heartbeat. --- THANKS to a reader with a 'car guy hubby' who identified Clay's car as a Nova ... I've fixed in this story.
> 
> I promise to pick up Unfit for Duty and get a chapter written soon. I've got ambitious goals for 2020. I'm striving to publish two more Beauty of Life novels (BREAKPOINTS and TREASURES), and three more Strike Force Zulu novels (BLOOD BONDS, and two untitled ones).
> 
> If you like my writing style, you can check out my website at lauraactonauthor.com for sneak peeks of upcoming books.


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